


It's Weird, and It Makes No Sense

by lod



Series: Phantoms in Love [2]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, I still can't write short things, Is my favoritest tag, M/M, Mementos (Persona 5), One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-16 22:05:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14819750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lod/pseuds/lod
Summary: Futaba makes a good friend in Yusuke. Just a friend. Right?If you expect more than fluff, you will probably be disappointed. Also, I gave Mishima a birthday, because he deserves one.This follows up directly after my previous work, Revelations, but both can be read alone, they're their own story.Spoilers through to end of fifth palace + free time after it.





	1. Chapter 1

Yusuke got to Shibuya a bit late, having taken longer than he’d planned to wash the paint off his hands. He looked around as he got past the ticket gates. He loved people watching in the subway; the variety of styles always inspired him. To his surprise, he caught a glimpse of long, red hair flying past a corner. There had to be others with this hair color in Shibuya, of course, but he had to make sure. Walking quickly, he rounded the corner and saw someone huddling on the side of the quiet alley, clinging to her knees and rocking softly. 

“Futaba?”

When he saw the terror in her eyes, he quickly closed the gap between them and squatted in front of her. She was visibly trembling and he had to suppress the urge to pull her into his arms. She was so strong in the Metaverse that it was easy to forget how difficult navigating the real world still was for her. Instead, he rested his hands lightly around her face, limiting her vision just to himself.

“Is this your first time coming to Shibuya alone?”

She nodded.

“I’m sorry, I should have come to pick you up,” he apologized.

“I didn’t realise how many people there would be…”

Yusuke waited a moment, feeling her grow calmer under his hands, then asked, “Do you want me to take you home?”

Futaba shook her head violently. “No! I will complete this quest, Inari!”

Not for the first time, Yusuke told himself he needed to ask her to teach him about geek culture so he could understand more — no, any — of what she said. Still, she seemed to be doing better, so he stood. She bounced up next to him and latched on to his arm, half-hiding behind him.

“Onwards, Inari!”

Yusuke led the way, Futaba silently clinging to him. He tried not to think about how pleasant her presence against him was. If he hadn’t been aware of how stressful the situation was for her, he would have purposefully gotten them lost just to keep her clinging to him a bit longer.

He’d fallen for the diminutive redhead before ever meeting her in the real world. The aesthetics of her Palace had spoken to him, and her Shadow self had possessed a beauty no other Shadow had. He’d attempted to draw it many times since her Palace’s collapse, but could never seem to do it justice. When he’d at last met the real Futaba, it had felt like a cog falling into place, a piece of himself he’d been missing all along and finally found. For all her social anxiety, she’d seemed at ease around him from the start. She didn’t share his feelings in any manner; she was always teasing him, making fun of him at every occasion. He was sure that if he’d replied honestly, brought up her own shortcomings, she would have stopped, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Any attention from her, even as negative as that, was an excuse to talk with her that he was unwilling to lose.

The moment they made it through the doors of the arcade, Futaba dropped his arm excitedly. He’d noticed before that she turned into a whole other person when she was in her element, and apparently the arcade was a place she felt safe. She pulled him to a shooting game that happened to be free.

“Let’s play!”

Yusuke disliked turning her down, but outside the Metaverse he was truly much more at ease holding a paintbrush than a gun. “I really ought to work on my sketches,” he said as he went to lean against a nearby wall, pulling out his sketchbook.

“Laaaaame!” Futaba called out to him, but she was interrupted by a kid who couldn’t be more than 12, wearing a red baseball cap.

“I’ll play you.”

* * *

 

The first time Futaba was defeated was hilarious. Yusuke worked quickly to capture her look of shocked outrage. By the third time, her outrage had turned to sad disappointment, and he just felt bad. He noticed another arcade booth with large floor pads that seemed to be empty, and taking pity on her, asked, “Want to play that one with me?”

“You play DDR? Wow, Inari! I didn’t realise you were somewhat cool!”

It turned out, as a matter of fact, that Yusuke did not play DDR. Had  _ never _ played DDR. After Futaba realised this and explained how to play, he managed to get a few points in, but the game offended his artistic sensibilities. It was as much “dancing” as a paint-by-numbers canvas could be called art. It got worse when the tempo accelerated and he nearly tripped over himself. The song finally ended, with Futaba soundly beating him and laughing at his ridiculous score, and he escaped back to a corner with his sketchbook. Watching Futaba play DDR was much nicer than playing alongside her. She made the step sequences look like a real dance, not just jumping about, like the person playing next to her did, but spinning smoothly from one move to the next, her flaming hair flying about her. He pulled out his colored pencils, shading in just the red of her hair in his otherwise greyscale sketches.

After a few hours, Futaba had apparently played all the games she’d wanted to, and Yusuke’s wrist was beginning to hurt. On their way out, Futaba stopped by the crane machines.

“Inari, check it out! That one looks just like Mona! Neeeeeed.”

She pulled some quarters out of her pocket and worked the machine, getting the crane down to the cat keychain, but it slipped out as she jerked the joystick upwards a bit too quickly.

“Damn it!”

She tried again twice, Yusuke noticing she made the same error each time.

“Nevermind, I give up. Let’s go home,” Futaba said dejectedly.

“Would you mind if I gave it a try?”

Futaba seemed surprised. “You don’t want to play any games, but you want to do this?”

“Please.”

Futaba slipped two more coins in, and Yusuke focused on the joystick, moving the crane over to the correct spot, then picking it up carefully. The keychain wobbled for a moment, but managed not to drop before getting to the chute, where Futaba was ready to grab it. “You were pulling up a bit too quickly at the end,” he explained.

Futaba was glowing as she held the keychain. “Wow, guess those artist’s hands are good for something! Can I keep this?”

“Of course.”

* * *

 

In the subway, Futaba bugged him to let her see his sketches until he handed his notebook over. She flipped through the pages, and he realised he had drawn only her the entire afternoon.

“Did you draw anything else than me?” she asked.

Thinking fast, Yusuke replied, “I wanted to do a character study, and since you would be there the whole time, you were the best subject.”

“If you say so! What’s the point of a character study, anyway?”

“Oh, um, it allows me to explore the various facets of an individual. Different angles, expressions. It’s good preparation before starting a larger portrait.”

“So you’re gonna do a portrait of me?”

Yusuke hadn’t been planning to do so, but he realised the idea appealed to him quite a bit. Maybe this would be the time he finally managed to capture her Shadow self successfully. It would make a great addition to his year-end portfolio, so he could justify taking the time for it. He also enjoyed the thought of focusing all his attention on capturing her likeness in its every detail.

“I was thinking of doing so for one of my projects. Would that be alright with you?” he asked, conscious of the mess he’d made the last time he’d picked a model without her approval.

“Yeah, totally. I am pretty gorgeous, right?” Futaba replied jokingly.

Yusuke nodded, not trusting himself to speak on that point, then wrinkled his brow in annoyance. “I’m out of large canvases, though. I suppose I will have to wait until tomorrow to start.”

“You mean until Tuesday. I think Akira said he was planning to have us start exploring the Spaceport tomorrow after school.”

“After school? That should leave me enough time to go to the art supply store, then.”

“Don’t you have class, though?” Futaba asked.

“My art classes are mostly project-based, there’s very little in-class time. I have standard subjects in the mornings, but most afternoons I’m free to work in the studio, my dorm room, or elsewhere if I so choose,” Yusuke replied.

“That’s awesome! School wouldn’t be so bad if I only had to go half days…Hey, but wait — that means we can hang out! I’ve been  _ so bored _ waiting for Akira to get home from school every day so he can take me places,” Futaba whined.

Yusuke smiled. “I am still supposed to be working on my projects during that time.”

Futaba pushed him jokingly. “Details, Yusuke, details!”

Yusuke accompanied Futaba to her door, despite her insistence that she would be fine alone in Yongen-jaya. He told himself it was because he didn’t want to have to explain to Joker why he’d lost their navigator if something happened to her, and not just that he relished those few extra minutes alone with her.

* * *

 

The next day, Joker pushed them hard in the Spaceport, getting more than halfway through the Palace before finally having them pull back out. Everyone was exhausted, and Yusuke barely managed to set out his futon when he got home before falling asleep on it facedown, still dressed. He was woken up a few hours later by his phone vibrating, still in his pocket. Blinking sleepily, he pulled it out and saw a message from Futaba. How she was still awake, he couldn’t begin to understand.

**Futaba:** Will you take me to the zoo tomorrow?

He blinked. He’d been meaning to work on the underpainting for his portrait of her… Well, he could work on it later, after all. Who knew when she’d change her mind about wanting to hang out with him? She’d spent the majority of their time in the Spaceport today making fun of him, as usual. He continued to enjoy any attention from her, but he knew she probably found him sincerely annoying.

**Yusuke:** Certainly. I will come to pick you up around noon. Good night.

A second later, her reply pinged in.

**Futaba:** yesss I’m gonna take pictures of you with your fox family eheheh

**Futaba:** gn!

“Gn?” Yusuke was puzzled by the unknown word, but quickly allowed sleep to take him again.

* * *

 

When Yusuke rang at Futaba’s doorbell the next day, no one answered the door. He waited a few minutes, rang again, then finally decided to send her a message. She probably didn’t want to actually see him. He understood, but she could at least have let him know before he paid for the train fare. A few minutes later, the front door opened, a messy-haired Futaba blinking in the doorway wearing a long, oversized shirt and, his heart gave a lurch as he noticed, no pants. She yawned as she walked over to unlock the gate. With a frown, he asked, “Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah… sorry, I had an alarm set for 11 but I fell back asleep. Come in,” she replied sleepily.

Yusuke sat on the couch while she went to get dressed. Ten minutes later, she came out wearing her usual shorts and loose shirt. Walking into the kitchen, she said, “Want some ramen?”

“Oh, that would be excellent, if it’s not a bother. I didn’t have breakfast today. Thank you.”

He heard the loud beep of an electric kettle being turned on, then Futaba walked back into the living room, sitting on a bar stool. “I dunno how you can stand to get up and not have breakfast,” Futaba said. “That’s like, the only reason I even get out of bed.”

Yusuke elected not to tell her that he had spent the last of his weekly stipend on the canvas and paints for her portrait. She was looking at her phone intently now, seeming to have instantly forgotten his presence. When the kettle beeped again, she jumped off the stool and headed back into the kitchen.

“Come get your bowl!” she called out.

Yusuke unfolded himself from the couch and went to do so. He sat at the bar next to her while they waited for the instant ramen to cook and then ate, listening to her chatter about some new computer that was coming out. He had no idea what she was talking about, but her excitement more than made up for his quietness, and he was happy just to let it wash over him.

By the time they were done eating, it was already 2pm and the sky was looking menacingly grey.

“Do you still want to go to the zoo?” he asked Futaba as he looked at the gathering clouds through the window.

She walked over to stand next to him. “Probably not the best day for it, huh. We can hang out here if you want?”

Yusuke agreed, and followed her into her bedroom. He noticed with a smile that the cat keychain he’d won for her was hooked onto her purse, hanging off her closet door. Futaba squatted on her computer chair and turned towards him as he looked at her bookshelf. “The Art and History of Anime?” he said, a title catching his eye.

“Oh, yeah. Someone gave me that for my birthday a few years ago. Like I don’t already know everything in there,” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“Would it be alright if I looked at it?”

“Knock yourself out, Inari.”

Yusuke pulled the book off the shelf and sat on the edge of her bed to read it, while Futaba turned back to her screen filled with incomprehensible lines of green text on a black background.

An hour later, Yusuke was lying down on his stomach on Futaba’s bed, thoroughly engrossed in the book. A gust of wind had blown the door shut, but it was otherwise calm. Futaba’s rapid typing in the background mingled with the sound of the rain that had started falling, forming a peaceful white noise. Suddenly, she started laughing and spun her chair around to show him her phone screen. On it was a screenshot of some anime, a man in a garden, looking at a butterfly. The butterfly had the words “literally anything” over it in full caps, and at the bottom it said “Is this a big mood”, the last few words in the same mismatched all-caps font. Yusuke looked at it in confusion, and Futaba gasped at him.

“Oh my god! Do you not know this meme?”

“I’ve heard of memes before…”

Futaba jumped off her chair and came to sit by him on the bed. Yusuke willed himself to ignore her body pressing against his side, shifting a bit away from her. “Ok, look,” she said, showing him the same picture without the added text. This time, the bottom text said “Is this a pigeon?” She attempted to explain the original image to him, and the various jokes people would make using it, showing him a few more examples. He sat up and pulled the sketchbook from his bag, drawing a quick rendition of the man and the butterfly, then added the words “A Palace” over the butterfly, and “Is this a distorted desire?” at the bottom. Turning it towards Futaba, he asked, “Like this?”

She looked at the sketch with a mixture of amusement and pity, and patted his head. “At least you tried, Yusuke. You’ll get it next time. Wait, I gotta take a picture of this. They’re gonna love it on the chat!”

Futaba snapped the picture with her phone, giggling to herself. She went back to her computer while Yusuke stared at the sketchbook, trying to understand where he’d gone wrong. Giving up, he turned back to the book. From what he was reading, he’d been underestimating the artistic value of popular art, and he found it fascinating.

It was a few more hours before he heard the front door slam shut, followed by footsteps and Sojiro opening Futaba’s door. “Futaba, did you forget to lock the —”

Sojiro interrupted himself as his eyes settled on Yusuke, lying on the bed. “What have you been doing in my daughter’s room with the door shut?” he said in an icy tone.

Yusuke jumped up, beginning to apologize, but Futaba cut in over him. “Sojiroooo! We were gonna go to the zoo but then the weather turned bad, so we decided to stay here.”

Sojiro, who was still looking at Yusuke with suspicion, sighed as his expression softened. “You’re a good kid, Yusuke. I trust you. But leave the door open from now on, alright?”

“Of course, sir,” Yusuke said with a slight bow of apology. “I ought to be getting back to the dorms soon, in any case.”

Sojiro glanced down at the bag he was holding. “We should have enough curry for three, if you’d like to stay for dinner.”

Yusuke’s stomach growled loudly in reply.

* * *

 

Over the next few weeks, Yusuke and Futaba began spending most of their afternoons together. He did end up taking her to the zoo a few days later, where she took a million pictures of him with the foxes as she’d promised, and even bought him a small metal fox keychain. It became a permanent addition to the keyring that always hung at his waist.

The Phantom Thieves met up a few times to discuss the situation with Mr. Okumura, but they still had some time and Akira didn’t want to call them back in just yet. After one of those meetings, Yusuke hung around until everyone had gone except Ryuji, who was sprawled on the couch playing a video game.

“If you have a moment, I’d like to discuss something with you, Akira,” Yusuke said.

Akira stretched as he stood up from a chair. “Sure. You want to take it downstairs?”

Ryuji seemed to be oblivious to their discussion, but Yusuke nodded.

Akira slipped behind the counter when they got downstairs while Yusuke sat at the bar. “Want some coffee?”

“Mmm, that would be delightful. Thank you,” Yusuke said. Akira prepared the coffee in silence, then came to sit next to Yusuke.

“So, what’s up?”

“It’s about Futaba. You’re very perceptive, and particularly close to her, so I’d like your opinion, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah?” Akira answered eagerly.

“Do you know if she has a romantic interest in anyone?”

Akira pumped his fist. “Finally! You two have been so obvious lately, but with how socially aware you both are, we were wondering which one of you would realise it first!”

Yusuke raised an eyebrow at that. “Socially aware?”

Akira shook his head. “Nevermind, Yusuke. We all love you just the way you are.”

Letting it go, Yusuke continued, “My heart has been hers since the moment we met, but I do not believe anything in her behavior indicates she reciprocates those feelings, on the contrary.”

“That’s unexpectedly romantic of you,” Akira said with a smile. “But you’re wrong. She’s all you ever talk about these days. Yusuke said this, and Yusuke showed me that, and Yusuke thinks we should do this, and Yusuke did that… I think I know more about you than you know about yourself at this point.”

“I’m not sure that means anything,” Yusuke replied. “She found out I have more free time during the day than the rest of you, so we’ve been spending more time together, but she’d do the same with any other Phantom Thief who had the time.”

Akira laughed and put an arm around Yusuke’s shoulder. “Futaba’s turned down all of Ann’s offers to go shopping together, and the only reason Makoto got her to study was because she showed up at the cafe and Sojiro thought it was a good idea. He told her to do it if she wanted him to renew her online game subscription. Hah, you should have seen her face! Other than me, you’re the only person she’s comfortable hanging out one on one with.”

Dropping his arm, he turned to look at Yusuke with a more serious expression. “That said, I don’t think she’s aware of how she feels yet. This is all so new to her. Let her take her time, ok?”

Yusuke nodded, mulling over Akira’s words.

“Have you been worrying about this? I’ve noticed you look a bit more tired than usual lately.”

“Well, I'm able to work on sketching when I’m with Futaba, but I can’t do anything more complex than that, so I’ve had to work on my projects at night after I come home.”

Akira put his palm to his forehead and rolled his eyes. “You two are absolutely hopeless. Don’t stay up too late this weekend, alright? I’m planning on having us head in Monday afternoon, and I need you in fighting shape. Ask her to come to your studio next time. She has a laptop, she should be fine.”

Yusuke began to nod in agreement, then realised there was a problem with that solution. “There’s no curry in my dorm, though.”

Akira stared at him flatly, then got up and walked over to the fridge. He pulled out a large container, saying, “I know your stipend covers meal expenses.”

“But I can buy at least a tube of paint for the price of a meal. And I always need more paint…”

Akira pushed the container, which smelled of curry, into Yusuke’s hands with an exasperated look. “You won’t need any paint if you die of starvation, Yusuke. Don’t force me to ask Makoto to handle your expenses!”

Yusuke’s eyes opened wide. “No! Please don’t do that.”

“I won’t… if you promise you’ll eat at least one healthy meal a day, alright?” Yusuke nodded, and Akira added, “Go get some sleep. I’ll see you Monday.”

* * *

 

Later that night as they laid in bed, Akira told Ryuji about his conversation with Yusuke. Ryuji let out a whoop when he heard. “Our Yusuke’s icy little heart, thawed by a fiery redhead! That’s adorable!”

Akira laughed and slid a hand through Ryuji’s hair. “Yeah, it is. Not as adorable as you, though,” he replied, leaning in to kiss Ryuji’s nose. It had been a few weeks now since their first kiss, and the fact that he could still make the blond blush so easily was a delight to him. Curling up against his chest, he breathed a sigh of contentment. He hoped Yusuke and Futaba figured things out quickly; being with Ryuji made him want to share the love and happiness he felt with everyone around him.


	2. Chapter 2

The Okumura takedown proceeded without incident. A few days later, Akira forwarded the group an email from Mishima inviting them to his birthday party that Friday. It would be an afternoon at the arcade, followed by dinner at a buffet. Ann, who’d been showing signs of boredom and beginning to suggest organising a celebration dinner without waiting for Mr. Okumura’s public apology, was overjoyed at the news, and the whole group agreed to attend.

* * *

 

Futaba looked through her closet, regretting turning down Ann’s many invitations to go shopping together. Mishima’s birthday party had been moved from the arcade to a bar in Shinjuku at the last minute. Apparently, Mishima the NPC wasn’t so average after all. He’d become close friends with Ohya, Akira’s drunk journalist confidant, over the last few months, and since she made up at least half of that bar’s revenue, she’d managed to pull some strings to privatize the place for the evening. He’d mentioned something about “returning the favor later” and how he wasn’t sure if dresses were really his thing, but Futaba had been fighting a boss at that moment and not listening too intently.

She wasn’t sure what one was supposed to wear to a bar, but her usual casual outfit probably wouldn’t cut it. She let out a groan of despair, getting the attention of the tall boy sitting on her bed.

“Is something wrong?”

Yusuke was wearing a plain white button up shirt with dark dress pants and his wedge boots. It was so much easier to dress up for guys, Futaba thought annoyedly. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear to a bar! Hey, you’re Mr. Aesthetics. Get over here and help me.”

Yusuke stood up smoothly, coming to stand behind her. He reached over her shoulder to flip through the hangers, stopping at a midnight blue dress with a flared skirt and a small cut-out on the chest. “What about this one?” he asked.

Futaba glared at the dress. “It’s too girly for me. I didn’t notice the cutout when I ordered it online.”

Yusuke pulled the dress out of the closet. “I think it would look lovely on you. Perhaps if you added your leather belt over it, and those lace arm warmers you had the other day…? With your biker boots to balance out the dressy aspect.”

Futaba considered it. Actually, that might actually work. “Ok, I’ll try it. Get out, get out!” she exclaimed, pushing him outside and closing the door.

A muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “My sketchbook!”

“Will you survive 5 minutes without it?” she called back.

Futaba slipped out of her shorts and shirt and into the blue dress. She was relieved to find the cut-out wasn’t anywhere near as large as she’d imagined it. Digging through her closet, she found her arm warmers and tugged those on, then added the belt. After a moment’s thought, she added a petticoat she had from a misguided cosplaying attempt. Looking in the mirror, she had to admit the look was pretty good. All it was missing was a nice hairdo. She stood in front of the mirror, attempting to braid her hair, but the strands kept slipping out of her grasp. After a few attempts, she growled in anger.

“Are you alright, Futaba? May I come back in?”

Oh, right. She’d forgotten Yusuke was waiting outside. “I’m fine, come in,” she replied.

Yusuke froze when he saw her, and she cringed. “That bad?”

“No! No, it’s great. I’m just not used to seeing you in a dress.” Was he...blushing? Looking up at her hair, he added, “Were you going to braid it?”

“I was  _ trying _ . But I’m clearly not Ann-level on hairstyling,” she complained.

“I could give it a try.”

Futaba stared at him. “You know how to braid hair?”

“Well, I’m not sure. I’ve never tried with real hair. But you have to understand how the hair moves in order to draw it correctly, so I looked up many tutorials last year. I think I could work it out,” he replied.

Futaba wheeled her computer chair over to the mirror and sat sideways on it her back towards him.. “It can’t be worse than my attempts, anyway,” she said, handing him a box of hairpins and elastics.

Yusuke sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the chair towards him a bit. He slid his fingers through her hair as he began to separate the strands, and Futaba’s breath caught in her throat. This was  _ nothing _ like Akira’s headpats. Her heart was beating way too fast, like it did when she had to be in public, and her face felt like it was burning. She focused on a glow-in-the-dark star on her wall, very deliberately looking away from the mirror, and willed herself to calm down. Braiding each other’s hair was a totally normal thing friends did together, right?

Yusuke kept pulling at strands, moving bits around, until her curiosity finally overruled her anxiety and she looked into the mirror. When she saw herself, she gasped. He’d braided small strands of her hair and pinned them up, making it look as though she was wearing some renaissance-fair headdress.

“Please don’t move, I’m almost done,” Yusuke said. He finished braiding the back of her hair and coiled it up, pinning it in place. “What do you think?” he asked, resting a hand on her shoulder.

Futaba couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror. “It’s amazing! This is your first time? How is that even possible!” she exclaimed.

He smiled. “I’m glad it pleases you.”

She caught his eye in the mirror, and suddenly, the air seemed filled with an electric tension, as though the slightest movement might set off an explosion. Yusuke dropped his gaze as she continued staring, and he ran a thumb along her jawline, leaving a trail of fire behind it. As she looked on, powerless to stop it, he bent down, slowly, inexorably, and pressed his lips against the back of her head.

The slight pressure on her scalp unfroze her, fear and anxiety crashing down on her shoulders like a mountain, pushing her off her chair, under her desk, her arms wrapped around her knees, face hidden as she tried to disappear from the world, from this situation that she could not begin to handle. He was there a moment later, kneeling next to her, his presence like a fire at her side, and she pushed further away, trying to escape as he apologized frantically. He fell silent as she cowered against the wall, then finally said, quietly, “Would you like me to leave now?”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded, the barest movement.

“I’m so sorry, Futaba. I never meant to hurt you. I’ll tell Akira to come see you, ok?”

He waited a moment longer, then she heard him exhale like a balloon deflating and walk away, the front door shutting gently behind him.

* * *

 

When Akira knocked on her door 15 minutes later, Futaba was sitting on the bed. She hated herself in moments like these, when her brain seemed to turn against her, pushing the unknown blindly away before she could decide how she felt about it.

“May I come in?” Akira called quietly.

Futaba nodded, then realised the futility of that gesture, and replied, “Yes...”

Akira opened the door softly, then shut it behind him and came to sit next to her. He put an arm around her shoulders, and she hid her face against him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Futaba mumbled against Akira’s shirt.

“What was that?”

She lifted her head slightly and repeated, “He  _ kissed me _ .”

Akira jumped a bit at that. “Did he force himself on you? I can’t believe...I’m gonna go find him right now,” he said, his voice steely.

Futaba pulled away. “No! Sheesh, calm down. No. He just…kissed my hair? I didn’t stop him, but it was scary and I panicked and now he hates me!”

Akira settled back down. “There’s no chance Yusuke hates you, Futaba. You can just tell him not to do that again. Or I can tell him, if you’d rather.”

Futaba didn’t reply right away. The idea of Yusuke kissing her was weird and terrifying. So why did she  _ really want him to do it again _ ? She could still feel the path his thumb had traced along her skin. Her brain, that traitor, brought her the image of him trailing his lips down her cheek rather than his thumb, and she flushed.

Akira, as perceptive as usual, said, “Unless you want him to?”

Futaba hid her face further into Akira’s side. “Maybe! I don’t know! This is weird and it makes no sense!”

Akira chuckled. “Yeah, weird and makes no sense is definitely the right way to describe it.”

“I’m not ready for this yet,” Futaba said.

“That’s totally reasonable. You don’t have to know what you want yet.” Akira said, squeezing her in a side hug. “But you might want to let him know that. The way I know Yusuke, he’s probably afraid you never want to see him again, and that’s not something he’ll be happy about.”

Futaba shook her head. “You do it.”

“Are you sure?” When she acquiesced, he pulled out his phone. After a few minutes, he looked up and said, “Ok, we need eye drops, concealer, mascara, and eyeliner. You got all that?”

Futaba looked at him as though he’d grown a third arm. “ _ What? _ ”

“Well, that’s what Ann says to use to hide the fact that you’ve been crying.”

“I thought you were texting Yusuke? I don’t have any of that stuff, anyway. Well, except the concealer. I probably just shouldn’t go.”

Akira stood up resolutely. “Nonsense. I’m gonna run down to the convenience store to grab everything, and you are going to sit here and not move, alright?” He paused in the doorway and turned back to her. “Nice hairdo, by the way. I didn’t realise you knew how to do it up this fancy!”

Futaba looked away and replied, “...Yusuke did it.”

Akira blinked. “I want to say that’s a shock, but actually, I’m really not that surprised.”

* * *

 

In a corner of Shibuya station, Yusuke read Akira’s message with relief. He still felt terrible about what had happened, but at least he wouldn’t need to find a way to tell Akira he was leaving the Phantom Thieves.

* * *

 

Akira came back a short time later and spread his purchases on the bed. Futaba jumped on the box of mushroom-shaped chocolate snacks. “Mine!”

“ _ Ours _ ,” Akira corrected her as he unwrapped the eyedrops. “Here, put these in. And you said you had concealer?” Futaba ate a few chocolate mushrooms, then did as he asked while he tested the eyeliner on his hand. When she was done, she went to get the concealer from her desk. It was the only makeup she wore regularly; her late nights had gifted her with terrible dark circles, and after Makoto had asked if she was feeling alright a few times too many she’d decided to make an effort. She applied it in the mirror, then looked back to Akira.

“I don’t know how to put on eyeliner or mascara, though.” 

“Hmm… neither do I, but it can’t be that hard, can it? Let’s ask the internet.”

Futaba and Akira looked through a few tutorials on her computer, but she still felt like she was going to stab herself in the eye if she tried. Akira, however, seemed fairly confident as he told her, “Let me do it, then.” She pulled off her glasses and tried not to shrink away from the pencil.

A few minutes later, he spun her towards the mirror. She blinked, the mascara feeling strange on her eyelashes, then put her glasses back on and gasped. She looked like the new and improved version of herself. “How? First Yusuke with the hair, then you with the makeup... that ain’t normal, you know!”

“I guess I’m pretty skilled with my hands,” Akira shrugged.

Futaba snickered. “That’s what she said!”

Akira rolled his eyes. “Are we ready to go, then?”

Futaba looked at him, and an idea came to her. A very, very good idea. “Wait. I want to try applying that makeup, too. But I don’t think I can do it on myself, and — “

Akira cut her off. “You just want to see what I look like with makeup on.”

“Obviously,” Futaba replied, jumping up with the pencil in hand.

“I didn’t agree to this!” Akira shouted as he moved away from her.

“ _ Pleaaaaase? _ I have makeup remover, we can take it off if it looks stupid, please please please—”

“Fine,” Akira gave in with a loud sigh, sitting down so she could reach his face. “But just the eyeliner, no mascara.”

Futaba squealed excitedly and got to work. She wasn’t as bad at it as she’d thought she’d be — she managed not to stab Akira in the eye — but the result was a little smudgy. When she stepped back to admire her handiwork, though, she realised that smudgy might not be a bad thing. Akira’s already piercing eyes looked incredible with the smudged eyeliner setting them off, like he could see right through your soul. She tried to remember where she’d seen him look like this before, and an image of him as Joker, staring down a particularly tenacious Shadow, came to mind. She grinned. “You’re wearing this to the party.”

Akira stood and looked at himself in the mirror. “Huh. Yeah, that’s not bad. Alright, let’s go before we take it from fashionably late to rude. Don’t forget your present?” he asked, pointing to the wrapped package on the desk.

* * *

 

When Akira and Futaba got to Crossroads, the bar Mishima was holding his party at, all their friends were already there, standing around and chatting. Mishima had invited all the Phantom Thieves, as well as a few members of the ex-volleyball team. Shiho was there as well, and the slightly older looking woman sitting at the bar with a row of empty shot glasses in front of her must have been Ohya. They all looked up as the two walked in and let out a collective gasp.

“Holy shit, Akira!” Ann exclaimed as she stepped forward, grabbing his jaw to turn it to the side and examine the makeup. “Like your eyes needed any extra definition with those ridiculous lashes you’ve got!”

Futaba stood to the side, forgotten as they all stepped forward to look more closely at Akira. All, except for Ryuji, frozen in place and blushing so bright a shade of red he might start emitting light, and… Yusuke. Yusuke, who was looking at her like there wasn’t anyone else in the room, that intense gaze of his focused on her beneath the sweep of his deep blue-black hair. He walked forward, stopping a safe distance away from her, and quietly said, “That makeup is just as striking on you,” then dropped his eyes and turned towards Akira, joining the rest of the group.

As the novelty of Akira in eyeshadow wore off, people turned back to their drinks and the snacks the bar owner, Lala Escargot, had brought out. Ann, Makoto and Haru made a big fuss over Futaba when they noticed her, admiring her braids and complimenting her makeup. Slightly embarrassed about the attention, Futaba replied, “Don’t congratulate me, it was all Joker and Inari! Seriously, good thing we have Ryuji in here to be the stereotypical male.”

Ryuji looked up from where he was leaning against the bar next to Akira. “Excuse you, is this stereotypical male behavior?” he called back in mock offense as he slid an arm around Akira and dipped him backwards in a showy kiss. Everyone whooped and Futaba threw her hands up.

“I give up! Everyone in here is abnormal! You all win!”

At that, they all cheered again.

After a while, they’d all settled into a large booth in the back of the bar, Futaba wedged in between Akira and Ann. Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and Lala-chan came out carrying a large cake with candles on it. Ohya, who’d been getting drunker by the hour, was walking next to her unsteadily. She launched into a very off-key rendition of a happy birthday song which they all joined. Mishima blew out his candles successfully.

“I’m wishing for the Phantom Thieves’ continued success!” he said with a grin.

Futaba booed him. “You can’t say what you wish for or it doesn’t come true, shitlord!”

A few of the people around the table gasped at her insult, but Mishima burst out laughing and said, “Oh well, that’s ok. I’m sure they didn’t need my wish to be successful anyway!”

Lala-chan cut the cake into slices and brought out plates, and they all thanked her before digging into the amazing layered chocolate mousse cake. When they were done stuffing their faces,it was time to give Mishima his presents. 

Ohya went first, reaching into her purse and pulling out a large bottle which she slammed down in front of Mishima. “Baby’s first handle of vodka!” she slurred out, before Lala-chan snatched the bottle away and put an arm over Ohya’s shoulders, guiding her away from the group.

Ryuji and Akira were next. They’d gotten him a Phantom Thieves supporter kit; Futaba had been there when they’d found it in the store. It had a PT-themed scarf, #1 finger and even some red and black face paint. It was absolutely ridiculous, but Mishima seemed sincerely excited about it. Ann, Shiho, Makoto and Haru had gone in together to get him a book about men’s style with a ridiculous name along the lines of “Clothing the Man,” which got a much less enthusiastic response. Shiho also gave him a framed picture of the two of them in their volleyball outfits, laughing together. Mishima was very touched by that one and leaned across the table to kiss Shiho on the cheek.

“I didn’t realise there were any good pictures of this time. Thank you, Shiho.”

The volleyball team gave him a video game, “Volleyball 20XX,” telling him it was so he wouldn’t lose his skills before they got a new coach. Finally, Futaba handed him her present, telling him it was from her and Yusuke.

Futaba and Mishima often chatted online; she’d helped him out with some of his Phansite issues, and she enjoyed talking to him. He really understood her geeky, meme-loving side in a way none of the Phantom Thieves did. During those conversations, he’d repeatedly kept gushing over a pair of personalized branded sneakers some celebrity gamer wore, with his team’s name and his main character on it. Using money from a freelance website job she’d taken, Futaba had bought him the same shoes, then gotten Yusuke to do the painting on them. It had taken a bit of coordinating to figure out his shoe size — Akira had snuck into the locker room and picked his locker open to check inside his shoes — but it was all made worth it by Mishima’s scream when he finally opened the box.

“How did you get these?!” he asked as he pulled them out.

“Yusuke did the painting,” she said, grinning. “Do you like them?” 

“I LOVE THEM,” he shouted, jumping out of his seat and on Yusuke, who weathered the hug stoically. Mishima kneeled to put on his shoes. “Watch out, pro-gamer Mishima coming your way!” he said, standing up.

“Pro-LOSER Mishima you mean!” Futaba yelled. “NPCs don’t win!”

Mishima stuck his tongue out at her and Akira wrapped an arm around her, clamping his hand over her mouth. 

“No insulting the birthday boy, Futaba.”

* * *

 

The volleyball team went home soon after, but the rest stayed to chat for a while longer, until at last everyone was yawning, except for Ohya who was outright asleep. It was well past time for the last trains, but they’d planned ahead to share rides home, with all the boys going to spend the night in Akira’s bedroom while the girls slept in Sojiro’s living room. The car ride was uneventful, and they were all half asleep by the time they made it to Yongen-jaya.

Sojiro had dragged Futaba’s mattress into the living room, and pulled out the couch into another bed. There was also an air mattress to inflate, and sleeping bags to lay out before they all finally crawled in and turned the lights off.

After a few minutes, Ann whispered, “I can’t sleep.”

The air mattress squeaked as Haru turned over and whispered back, “Me neither.”

Futaba was used to going to bed very late and hadn’t even been trying to sleep, playing on her phone. “Then don’t sleep.”

“We should try, though. We’re supposed to get breakfast with the boys tomorrow morning, remember?” Makoto interjected, always the responsible one.

Ann flopped back down with a dejected huff, but Shiho sat up from where she laid next to her and grinned in the moonlight. “I think what we need to help us fall asleep is a little _detective investigation_.”

Ann turned to her, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?!”

“Yes! Let’s go snoop on the boys!”

In her defense, Makoto did try to stop them, but Haru decided it would be a delightful idea, and at that point she was fighting a losing battle. She ended up deciding it was better to go along and supervise them than stay back, and the plan was set. They pulled their coats over their PJs and slipped on their shoes, Futaba locking the door as quietly as possible behind them.

* * *

 

When they got to the cafe, the door was cracked open and they realised that if they squatted underneath the window, they could discreetly see inside and hear the discussion.

Ryuji and Akira were sharing a booth seat opposite Yusuke, with Mishima sitting backwards on a chair next to them. Futaba noticed with jealousy that they each had a cup of coffee steaming in front of them.

Mishima was bouncing his leg up and down excitedly. “So, what did you think of the girls tonight? They all looked super cute, right!”

Outside the cafe window, Ann looked back at the rest of them excitedly and whispered, “Perfect timing!”

Akira laughed good-naturedly. “Sorry, I didn’t really pay attention. I only had eyes for this guy right here,” he said as he wrapped an arm around Ryuji. Ryuji turned his head to kiss Akira’s cheek, and Haru let out a small “aww.”

“Shhhhh,” Ann hissed without turning away from the window.

“Well, what about you, Yusuke, what did you think?” Mishima insisted.

Yusuke turned red, an infrequent state for him, and spluttered. “I.. I think they were all very beautiful?”

“Oh yeah, all of them? Not one particularly more than the rest?” Ryuji replied mockingly.

Yusuke blushed harder, and Akira kissed Ryuji’s head and said, “Don’t tease our little artist boy, Ryuji.”

Mishima seemed as confused by the whole conversation as the girls outside the window did, with the exception of Futaba, who was quietly wishing she could disappear. Akira yawned and stretched, getting out of the booth. “What do you all say we go set up the sleeping bags and play a bit of Gambla Goemon?”

Yusuke frowned at his coffee cup. “But I don’t play video games.”

“Come on, it’s got Goemon in it, you gotta!” Ryuji replied.

Ann looked frantic. “Wait, they’re gonna leave and we haven’t even played a single prank on them!” she whispered.

Shiho thought for a moment, then performed an incredibly accurate impersonation of the clingy, strangely-dressed men who had thrown themselves at Ryuji in Shinjuku before Akira had told them to leave him alone. “Ooooh, where is that Ryuji? I have it on good authority he’s staying around here?”

Ann slapped her hands over her mouth as she suppressed a laugh, then called out, in a slightly less accurate imitation, “Ryuji, darling! We want to show you our special kissing technique!”

Ryuji squeaked a terrified “No! They can’t be here, can they? Akira!” and pushed himself out of the booth so quickly he nearly fell down, then ran upstairs.

Even Makoto had trouble not laughing at that. Yusuke and Mishima followed him up while Akira walked to the door. When he opened it, all he heard were some distant running footsteps and suspiciously girly giggles.

* * *

 

When they got back to the house, out of breath from laughing and running the whole way back, Futaba noticed she had a text message from Akira.

**Akira:** Please tell Ann not to terrify my poor boyfriend like that, it’s gonna take ages to calm him down. And she needs to practice more if she doesn’t want to be recognizable. My compliments to whoever did the other voice, though, that was excellent.

Futaba showed everyone the message, which set them off on another bout of hysterical laughter. By the time they finally made it inside and back into bed, the sky was already beginning to lighten, and Sojiro had a very hard time getting them up before noon the next day.

* * *

 

A few days later, Futaba dropped by the cafe for a late lunch and was surprised to see Yusuke sitting in a corner booth with his sketchbook.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

He looked up at her and visibly wilted, as though her presence hurt him, she thought sadly.

“Someone burnt food in the dorm kitchens so we had to evacuate, and they wouldn’t let us back in right away because of the smoke. It was too cold to stay outside, so I presumed on Sojiro to let me spend a few hours here.”

“You could have come over, you know,” she said.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” he replied, looking down. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there.”

She felt her anxiety over her feelings for him appear in the back of her mind, like a child knocking on a door to be let in, but she refused to listen to it. “Of course not,” she said. “Do you wanna come over now? There’s a new meme you should see!”

Yusuke smiled at her and picked up his jacket and bag. “Sure. I’d love to.”

Futaba pointedly ignored Sojiro’s insistant look as she walked out of the cafe, followed by Yusuke.

* * *

 

When they got back to her room, Yusuke sat on her bed as he usually did while Futaba put away her coat. She hesitated for a moment, then decided not to overthink it, grabbing her laptop and coming to sit next to him. He seemed a bit surprised; she always sat at her computer when he was in the room with her. She willed him not to say anything as she opened the laptop and pulled up some random meme to justify her excuse for inviting him over.

When she tried to show it to him, he said, “I can’t see anything. Your screen’s all black.”

She looked at her screen, confused. “Oh! It’s gotta be my privacy filter. Makes it hard to see at most angles. I really need to get one I can remove, it’s always getting in the way.” She smiled. When she’d bought the filter, she hadn’t thought twice about which kind to get. She’d been alone in her room back then, and having to show her screen to someone else wasn’t something she’d ever expected to be doing. Somehow, she’d been lucky enough that the group of thieves she’d blackmailed into stealing her life back had not only forgiven her, but adopted her as one of their own. Sometimes, she wondered if it was all a story, a dream she’d awaken from, back in the filthy, dark, lonely room that had been her life for two years.

Mustering up what courage she could find, she shifted closer to Yusuke so he could see her screen clearly, her shoulder brushing against his arm. She explained the meme to him, then when she was satisfied he had understood it, opened her code editor and continued working on her latest project. The heat of his arm against her shoulder was a constant distraction and she would probably have to redo everything she did today, but she didn’t move, and neither did he. The rest of the evening passed without incident, as though the braiding episode had never occured. When Sojiro came home, they joined him for dinner, and before Yusuke left they made plans to go to the planetarium the next day.

Futaba was heading back to her room when Sojiro put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

“Is there still nothing I should know about you and Yusuke?” he asked.

Futaba quickly replied, “No! Nothing,” but her blush gave her away.

“Really?”

“Nothing...yet.” she amended quietly.

“...Hmph. Fine. You will tell me when there’s something I need to know?”

“Yes, dad! Can I go now, please? I have a match and I’m gonna be late.”

Sojiro let her go, and she ran into her room and slammed the door shut. There was no match, of course, but trying to accept her feelings was hard enough without having to talk to her dad about them. She shuddered, then decided that maybe spending her evening in a game wouldn’t be a bad distraction after all.

* * *

 

Over the next week, Futaba realised that Yusuke was finding reasons to touch her, walking close enough that their hands brushed against each other, touching her shoulder to point out a star in the planetarium, leaning against her when she showed him something on his phone. At first, it had seemed accidental, but when compared to his behavior previously she realised it was quite deliberate. The part of her that was terrified at the idea of someone showing her affection slowly grew quieter each time until she began looking forward to it, leaning back into him, playfully tapping him, grabbing his hand to pull him forward when he lagged behind.

One time as they spent the afternoon playing video games with Ryuji and Akira, she’d even started tickling him under the pretense of “helping” Akira beat him, as though Yusuke needed any help losing. His surprisingly high pitch squeal had set all three of them laughing, but when she’d tried to continue tickling him he had pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her, effectively immobilising her. She hadn’t struggled too hard to get out, and when he’d loosened his arms a bit later, she’d stayed where she was, hoping no one else had noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Greenie](https://greenieartblog.tumblr.com/post/177630714776/my-gift-for-thermopylod-for-the-bunch-of-fanfic) drew me some beautiful art of the hair braiding scene! Thank you!!!   
>   
>  (BLOOSH)


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, the day of Haru’s father’s public press conference came. They’d spent the evening at  Destinyland thanks to Haru, enjoying having the run of the entire park to themselves, but it took a dark turn when Mr. Okumura suddenly had a mental breakdown on camera. They all left in a hurry, but Futaba found that she couldn’t sleep that night. She kept seeing Mr. Okumura’s eyeballs rolling up into his skull, the blood dripping from his blind sockets. Finally giving up on sleep, she texted Yusuke.

**Futaba** : I can’t sleep, I keep seeing the images of the press conference every time I close my eyes x_x

A few minutes later, Yusuke replied.

**Yusuke:** I must admit that I am not finding it easy to rest tonight, either. I keep thinking of what Haru must be going through right now.

**Futaba:** We’re probably the ones who best understand how she’s feeling right now. We should offer her our support.

**Yusuke:** Yes, that is a good idea. Let us do so.

Futaba opened a three-way chat with Haru and Yusuke.

**Futaba:** Hey, Haru. We just wanted to let you know that we understand the pain you’re going through right now, and if you want to talk to anyone, we’re here for you, ok?

Having done that, Futaba distracted herself by playing Minecraft. An hour later, well into the night at this point, Haru replied.

**Haru:** Thank you. Your support means a lot to me.

Another few hours passed before Futaba finally fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

 

It was the last Sunday before exam week, which happened to fall on the same dates in Kosei and Shujin for once, and all the Phantom Thieves were gathered in Akira’s bedroom, checking over the list of targets they’d be going after in Mementos today. Makoto had shown up particularly angry about everyone foregoing studying to go fight Shadows, but when Joker had told her he needed to do some good in the world after last week’s events, she had nodded understandingly. Even Haru had joined them, saying she felt lost alone at home, and that beating up Shadows would at least take her mind off of things for a while. Futaba didn’t have exams to study for, Yusuke had already studied with Akira the day before, and Ann and Ryuji had never planned to study in the first place, so it was settled that they’d go in and take care of the four requests that had piled up while they’d been making their way through the Spaceport. There was a sort of frenzied energy in the air as they let Mona quickly drive them down to the entrance of the last Path they’d reached, all of the stress and anxiety they’d felt since their night at Destinyland begging to be released in the resounding hit of weapon on Shadow.

* * *

 

Three hours later, that energy was completely depleted. They’d taken care of 3 out of the 4 requests, and they were tunneling ever deeper on the Path of Akzeriyyuth to look for the subject of the last request. Based on how things had gone previously, Akira had told them it’d probably be on the threshold to the next Path of Mementos, but they were beginning to wonder if this Path would ever end. They were on the tenth floor now, the last safe room 2 floors ago, and everyone was using the last of their energy even as the Shadows got progressively stronger. They stayed low-leveled compared to what they’d encountered in the Spaceport, but the sheer amount of them was beginning to truly take its toll. Even Futaba, who didn’t bear the brunt of fights’ nastiness, had finally run out of energy when they’d reached this floor, nearly fainting when she attempted to scan it.

Yusuke wasn’t much of a strategist by any means, but even he could tell going forward like this wasn’t a great idea. He’d said as much, but Akira had said they’d just try for one more floor, and if that wasn’t it they’d turn back. No one had argued, but Yusuke was sure he wasn’t alone in wondering how they’d fare against a powerful request Shadow in their current state.

It was a funny thing, but in the Metaverse, physical fighting barely took anything out of you. Even when you felt like the easiest Persona-based attack was beyond your strength, you could still swing a weapon easily. Therefore, the three strongest physical fighters, Queen, Skull and Fox, had been forming the main assault team for the last couple of floors. Panther and Noir stood nearby while they fought, ready to switch out if one of them took too strong of a blow, while Mona stayed in car-form, saving up the last of his strength for heals. Oracle usually floated above with her Persona, but now that she was too exhausted to summon Necronomicon she stayed in the car.

They’d been making their way through the floor, hitting dead-end after dead-end and dodging around Shadows, when an unfortunate error in driving rammed them straight into one. Two Egyptian gods appeared, and Yusuke groaned. Even though it was quite a bit lower level than they were at this point, Anubis was a particularly unpleasant shadow to encounter. It had no weaknesses they could exploit, and attacked with skills none of them had resistance to other than Joker, even hitting them with insta-kill hits at times. He gripped his sword tightly and prepared for a difficult fight.

Luckily, they’d hit from behind, and managed to land a few hits before the Shadows roused themselves and started fighting back. Seeing one of the dog-faced gods begin to focus his energy, Yusuke braced himself for the hit. When it failed to come, he looked up and saw that the Shadow was turned away from him. He looked in the direction it was facing and blanched. Jumping forward without a care for battle tactics and orders, he threw himself at the Shadow, but his critical hit landed half a second too late. The Shadow went sprawling, but Yusuke could only watch in horror as the killing spell hit Mona, who was instantly thrown out of his car-shape, leaving him and Futaba lying motionless on the floor. He ran to them, closely followed by Ann and Haru.

As he went down on one knee to pull Futaba into his arms, he barely registered Ann behind him saying, “Looks like Mona managed to endure that hit, but he’s in pretty bad shape.” His worst fears were confirmed as he realised the redhead wasn’t breathing. 

Frantically, he called out, “Joker! Somebody! She’s not breathing!” Joker put a bullet through the last begging Shadow’s head and ran over, followed by the rest of the team.

“What happened?” Joker asked as he kneeled next to them and put his hand to his forehead, focusing on calling forth a Persona.

“The Shadow landed a killing hit to Mona while Futaba was inside,” Yusuke replied. “She’s not supposed to get hit! She’s too fragile for it!”

Haru put a comforting hand on his shoulder and he willed himself to calm down, to trust in Joker’s skill, but the limp body in his arms made it impossible. Joker was taking an exceedingly long time to revive her, his hand still over his forehead and his scowl deepening. Besides them, Ann cradled Mona in her arms while Ryuji and Makoto stood ready to dispatch any potential shadows. Yusuke was distantly aware that as a physical fighter he ought to be next to them, but he couldn’t leave Futaba.

Finally, Joker removed his hand from his head, his expression a cross between anger and despair, so rare on his usually calm face. “I can’t do it,” he breathed out. “I don’t have anyone who can revive her.”

Yusuke looked up at him at him with rage. “What do you mean you can’t do it?!” he shouted. “You have to save her!”

“Do you think I don’t want to?” Joker yelled back. He took a visibly shaky breath, the anger running out of him. “I love her as much as you do, Fox. It’d take too long to explain, but I don’t have the ability right now. I can’t do it.” He put a hand on her shoulder, and, with tears gathering in his eyes behind his mask, said, “Futaba…”

Yusuke felt as though he was falling into a deep pit, the world around him growing distant. He couldn’t accept this. They’d gone through so much together, they’d fallen and gotten back up a hundred times, a thousand, to much stronger opponents. It couldn’t end like this, because of one erratic shadow in a gloomy subway corridor. An idea came to him like a rope thrown down, and he clutched onto it. “What about Mona? He can revive people, right?”

Joker shook his head. “Mona’s not awake yet. I’m not even sure I can give him any medication in this state, and it’ll take a while for him to be up to casting a revive…”

“Well, what about a revival bead? We used to use those, right? There’s got to be at least one left?” Yusuke grasped desperately at the last shred of hope.

Joker reached into his coat, pulling out a pouch way too large to have logically been able to fit in there, and turned it upside down on the floor. A pile of items came tumbling out, mostly trash taken off of shadows. He shuffled through the items, when Ann shouted.

“Stop! Right there. To the left.” Yusuke looked where she was pointing. In a plastic baggie, looking a bit scuffed but intact, was the blue bead he’d been hoping for. Joker opened the pouch, letting the bead drop into his palm, then pressed it to Futaba’s forehead. A swirling light surrounded them, and Yusuke held back a sob of relief as he felt Futaba gasp in a shaky inhale. Her eyes remained shut, but she was alive. She was alive.

Yusuke pressed her against his chest, burying his face against her hair, while Haru and Joker stuffed everything back into the pouch.

They barely had a moment to breathe, however, before Ryuji called back, “Guys, we need to get a move on. I see a red Shadow in the distance.”

Joker stood, brushing his knees off. “We’re going to head back to the last safe room. It’s just one un-mapped floor to get there, I think we can make it. We’ll evaluate the situation there.”

Yusuke stood, Futaba still against his chest. They all snuck back to the escalator without any issues. The next floor was a bit harder to get through as they had no map, and Ryuji took down a few lower-leveled shadows from behind when they couldn’t find a way to sneak around them. Yusuke hadn’t realised before just how strong the blond was, but it was impressive to see. 

At last, they made it to the safe room, everyone sagging down in exhaustion. Yusuke sat against the wall, letting his head fall back against it. In Ann’s arms, Mona had woken up with a faint meow, but passed out again just as quickly.

“All I’ve got left are some adhesive bandages at this point. That’s not going to do much for them…” Joker said as he looked through his pouch again.

Yusuke frowned. “Can’t you, Ann and Makoto cast healing spells?” 

“I haven’t been able to summon Carmen since we were first in this break room,” Ann replied. “Makoto?”

Makoto shook her head. “Same here.”

Growing more anxious, Yusuke turned to Joker. “And you?”

“I didn’t realise you two had been out for this long…” Joker said, looking guilty. “I’m pretty sure the hit that took down that last Anubis was the last of me, too.”

“Do you still have the ability to drain spirit?”

Joker sighed. “Yeah, but I don’t want to get us all into a battle situation to use it. It’s too risky at this point.”

“I’m not suggesting you use it on a shadow.” Joker seemed to understand what Yusuke was implying and started disagreeing, but Yusuke spoke over him. “I’ve got some energy left in me, I was mostly using physical fighting techniques tonight. I’ve been hit by it before, I know it barely hurts. You need to be logical, Joker. We have no other options.”

Joker was still shaking his head. “I am not attacking my own teammate!”

“You’re not attacking me, I’m asking you to do it. You know we can’t walk all the way back up safely. We need to get Mona back at least, and I’m really worried about Futaba. She should have woken up by now.”

Joker was still hesitating, so Yusuke insisted. “ _ Please _ .”

“...Forgive me for this,” Joker said as he placed a hand on Yusuke’s shoulder and reached the other to his forehead.

“Persona!”

Usually, a spirit drain tingled a bit too much, like a particularly severe case of pins and needles that left you yawning, sometimes with a light side effect of melancholy. This was nothing like that. Yusuke felt like he was being stabbed by a thousand needles, and only the consciousness of Futaba in his arms kept him from screaming. As it was, his entire body convulsed, and when the pain retreated he fell back against the wall, exhausted as he’d never been before, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as a sense of overwhelming sadness took him.

After a minute, the emotion passed, and he managed to lift his head up. “Wow. You truly are on another level from the rest of us, leader.”

“I never want to have to use anything else than healing magic on any of you ever again,” Joker said somberly. “Ann, can you bring Morgana over here? Actually, all of you, come here. I’ve got enough for a party healing, and I think we could all use it.”

The rest of the Phantom Thieves gathered around Yusuke. Akira stood, and when he called forth his Persona Yusuke had to suppress a shiver of fear. He knew he’d never be able to see that move again without remembering the raw strength of his power. The healing spell settled over the group like a breath of fresh air. It shimmered in the air and gave the temporary illusion of walking through a field of wildflowers. As the sparkles faded, Yusuke felt Futaba stir in his arms. He looked down, and saw her blink her eyes open, looking straight up into his. Of course she’d woken up; there wasn’t a version of the world Yusuke was willing to imagine where she didn’t. And yet, looking into her purple-brown eyes, the relief he felt gave the lie to his denial.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered.

Yusuke was exhausted, his emotions an unstable mess from the events of the last half hour compounded by Joker’s draining and the subsequent healing. At least, he later told himself that was why he’d let go of any grasp on rationality and coherent thought. Because when Futaba smiled at him, the dirty subway wall he was leaning on and the Phantom Thieves gathered around him faded away, leaving nothing but her, and he did the only thing that seemed possible in that moment. One of his hands slid to the back of her neck, cradling her head, while the other gently swept the hair out of her face, and leaning down, he kissed her.

He kissed her gently, delicately, like a question that she answered without hesitating. Her face followed his up when he started to pull away and Yusuke lost himself in the feeling of her and the knowledge that she reciprocated his affection. He’d kissed, and been kissed, before, but comparing those experiences to this one seemed as silly as comparing a lit match to a forest fire. He realised then that every painting he’d ever done of Love, of Desire, of Passion, was so very wrong; how could he have successfully characterized emotions he’d never truly felt, not the way that he felt them now? He smiled against her lips, then flushed a bit at the thought of new discoveries left to make, somewhere far off in the future, with her. Always with her.

At last they drew away from each other, and Futaba glanced around and noticed for the first time that they were surrounded. She worried that her panic would rear its ugly head, but it was nowhere to be found. There was nothing to be afraid of, after all, when Yusuke’s arm was strong and solid beneath her back, his hand warm as it stroked her cheek. She felt shielded and safe in his grip. She smiled up at him, shifting a bit, and noticed an ache running down her entire left side. She opened her mouth to ask what had happened, but before she could say anything, Yusuke spoke.

“Futaba, you’re the brightest light in any room you enter. You’re the smartest, funniest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Would you do me the honor of going out with me?”

Behind her, Haru whooped, and someone — probably Ryuji — whistled. She also thought she could make out Ann whispering something about Yusuke being “as over dramatic as ever.” 

His face was slightly flushed and the look in his grey eyes, like she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen, made her forget the pain and her question.

“Yeah, I guess I’d like that,” she replied, his face lighting up. “But wow, Inari.  _ Brightest light _ ? Could you be any more cheesy? And—”

Yusuke cut her off with a kiss as their friends clapped.

After a few minutes, Akira spoke up. “Hate to break this up, but we ought to head out. It’s getting late.”

Yusuke and Futaba reluctantly broke apart, and Futaba tried to get up. Tried, and failed, the pain in her side stabbing through her as she stood. She stumbled, only staying upright thanks to Joker catching her. Yusuke stood hurriedly behind her. “Are you alright?”

“My whole side hurts! I never got to ask, what happened?”

“You got attacked by a Shadow. I’ll explain on the way back up, alright?” Yusuke said as he picked her up carefully.

“What are you doing? I can walk.”

“No, you can’t. You almost fell just standing up,” Yusuke replied. Futaba rolled her eyes, but he wasn’t  _ wrong _ , so she let him carry her into the Mona-car. He put her down on the middle seat, sliding in after her. Futaba winced as she pushed herself over, and he asked, “Are you feeling alright?” as the other Thieves climbed in, Makoto taking the wheel.

Futaba shook her head. “Hurts. Is this what you all go through every time we fight?” she asked.

“No. We have better armor, more physical training, and you got hit by an instant-kill curse. That doesn’t happen every day,” Yusuke answered, taking her hand in his and interlacing their fingers.

Ann, who’d sat next to Yusuke, chimed in. “Technically, Mona got hit by the killing curse. I wonder if it automatically hit you too because you were sitting inside the car, or if the Shadow was targeting both of you.”

“In fact, I think it may have concentrated the impact of the curse onto the occupant of the car,” Makoto said. “I wonder if there’s any way to experiment with it…”

The conversation devolved into a debate between Makoto and Akira on the metaphysical properties of the Metaverse, the rest of the Thieves nodding off as they made their way back to the entrance without incident. Futaba fell asleep on Yusuke’s arm, waking up at every sharp turn or brake with a wince of pain, Yusuke rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb when she did.

Back at the entrance, Akira stopped before leading them back out, bowing his head down and running a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, everyone. This was all my fault, I should never have pushed us this hard. I nearly got two of our team members killed because I wasn’t paying attention to how you were all doing. That’s inexcusable.”

Haru, as sweet as ever, smiled as she replied, “We’re a team. We should have told you earlier when we were running out of energy. There’s no point blaming anyone. We’re all well, so let’s just get home, eat something and sleep it off, alright?”

Joker nodded, and they stepped back into the real world.

* * *

 

What with exams, Futaba hadn’t seen Yusuke since that Mementos run. She’d tried to chat with him by text, but it was clearly not his prefered form of communication, his replies stilted and sporadic. She’d occupied herself by looking into something that had been bothering her for a while. Who had used the Medjed name to push the Phantom Thieves into going after Okumura Foods? What she’d found troubled her, and she was eager to discuss it with the rest of the group. 

She’d told Akira, and he had called a meeting that Thursday as soon as the exams ended. When she got to the cafe, Ryuji was already there. She sat next to him on the bed while they waited for the rest of the Phantom Thieves to trickle in, teasing him about exams. When Yusuke came in, they made eye contact as she said hi, but she looked away quickly. She needed some time alone with him to process what their relationship meant, and in any case her mind was on the news she had to share right then.

Akira and Haru finally walked in, and she jumped up, telling everyone what she’d noticed. She explained how they’d been provoked by someone who wasn’t remotely a “real” agent of Medjed, someone who’d also manipulated the Phan-site to artificially increase their approval ratings and tampered with the rankings. As they all discussed it, they realised they had all been played for fools for a long time, pretty much ever since she’d joined the team. Ryuji in particular was beginning to show serious signs of stress, but Yusuke, ever the rational one, reminded them that there was no point getting worked up over it without any information. They chatted a bit longer about the manipulator and what they could do to get more details about him before heading home.

As Futaba was walking out, Yusuke joined her. “Would it be alright if I walked you home?” he asked.

Futaba flushed and nodded. It was a very short walk, and they were silent for most of it. When they’d reached the gate of her house, he turned to face her. “Could you join me at the Kosei dorms tomorrow afternoon?”

“Um, sure?”

“There’s something I’d like you to see,” he said by way of an explanation. For a moment, Futaba worried that he’d try to kiss her, in this much too public place, but he only drew her to his chest. As he folded his arms around her, she tentatively put her hands on his back, letting herself melt into the hug. “I will see you tomorrow, then,” he said after a few moments, releasing her and heading back towards the train station.

* * *

 

The next day, Yusuke came to meet Futaba at the station closest to his school. She’d made a lot of progress lately, but walking alone through a neighborhood she didn’t know was still a bit much for her. When she stepped through the gates, she saw the lean boy leaning against a wall, his blue-black head standing above the crowd. He caught her eye and his face lit up as he pushed gracefully off the wall to walk towards her. When he reached her, he immediately slipped his hand into hers. Even if the height difference made it a bit awkward, Futaba held on the whole way back to the school, enjoying the feeling of his warm palm against hers. They discussed the police interrogations at Shujin as they walked, both of them worried about their friends.

Yusuke’s dorm room wasn’t as small as Futaba had imagined. Pushed to one side was a folded futon. The floor in the rest of the room was covered with drop cloths, a desk standing against the far wall and a large easel taking center stage in the middle of the room, holding a cloth-covered canvas. What surprised her the most was the large fish tank wedged in a corner, containing two familiar-looking lobsters.

“You kept them?!” Futaba exclaimed as she ran over.

“What? Oh, my lobsters? Of course I kept them. What else was I going to do with them?”

Futaba hesitated, but decided it probably wasn’t the best time to suggest a grilled lobster dinner when she saw him bend over the tank, sprinkling food pellets into it with a particularly tender expression.

She looked around the rest of his room as he did so. There were canvases stacked against the wall, one of which seemed to have a crossed-out image of Ann on it. Over his desk, sketches were pinned and taped up haphazardly. She walked closer to look at them, amused to see a few detailed lobsters. There were also some sketches of the group, Akira in his joker suit, Ryuji curling a dumbbell with a grin, Makoto with 3 textbooks in front of her… and then she was there, everywhere, a dozen or more sketches of her with her fiery red hair rendered in colored pencils, in watercolor, in tempera. She smiled directly at the viewer in one, was intently focused on shooting down an enemy in an arcade game in another, squatted at her computer with a devilish look, looked shy in her swimsuit. Some of these scenes had clearly been drawn since they’d begun spending more time together, but many of them predated their friendship. There was even one of herself dressed in a loose interpretation of ancient Egyptian clothing, next to a skilfull rendition of Necronomicon. Futaba’s breath caught as she realised these stretched back to before they’d even met in the real world.

“That’s a lot of  _ me _ ,” she said. “Too much.”

“No such thing as too much of you,” Yusuke replied as he stood and walked over to her. The casual way he said such a powerful sentence made something inside her jump. In many ways, she and Yusuke were kindred souls; they both prefered to stay indoors, they both could spend hours silently working on their passion, they both had trouble connecting to other people. For some things, though, they were like night and day. Whereas Futaba’s problem with people was that she was afraid of them, of feeling their eyes on her, Yusuke seemed simply unable to acknowledge their existence. He was often acerbic or downright rude, and when it was pointed out that what he’d said hadn’t been nice, he was usually shocked. He’d argue that he’d only been saying the truth, or sharing his honest opinion, as if that wasn’t the exact problem. Futaba loved his lack of filter; she loved knowing what he was truly thinking without needing to second guess his every word.

“Some of these are… from my Palace, aren’t they?” she asked. She had only hazy memories of that time.

“Actually,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her towards the easel, “that’s why I asked you to come today.” He walked over to the easel and drew the cloth off it, revealing the canvas beneath. It depicted her, dressed as Oracle in her skintight suit and red goggles, Necronomicon a shadow in the background. In her arms, she recognized the Egyptian pharaoh version of herself from the sketch. This version of her, which had to be her Shadow, had glowing yellow eyes, and looked at Oracle with affection, with tolerance. Unusual expressions on a Shadow, but somehow they made sense here. Where Shadow Futaba didn’t cling back to Oracle, she was fading away, dissolving into the background.

Futaba couldn’t stop looking at the artwork. Somehow, Yusuke had managed to perfectly represent on canvas that moment of self-acceptance, not denying who she’d been, but rather folding it in, a valid aspect of her personality that did not define who she was.

“Do you like it?”

Futaba turned to him with tears in her eyes. “It’s perfect,” she said, and rose on her tiptoes to kiss him.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined when she reached only air. Even pushing herself up as high as she could, she remained quite short of reaching his face. Embarrassed, she slapped at his arm. “Why are you so tall, Inari?”

Yusuke put his hands around her waist and picked her up as though she weighed nothing.”Is this better?”

“Whoa, have you been working out with Ryuji?” Futaba asked, sliding her arms around his neck.

“Certainly not,” Yusuke said with a slight sneer of disgust. “A public gym. What an unpleasant idea. You are simply no harder to lift than a bag full of paints and a large canvas.”

Futaba wrapped her legs around his waist while he crossed his arms underneath her, holding her up. She looked into his eyes, and the snarky comment she’d been about to make evaporated on her lips as her heart sped up. He shook his bangs out of his face, even that movement filled with grace. It was rare for both of his grey eyes to be completely uncovered. The intensity of his gaze seemed to burn through her, setting every part of her on fire. 

She dipped her face down to his, her eyes batting shut as her lips brushed against his. She kissed him, softly at first, then more forcefully. He kissed back, pushing his face into hers, and emboldened by this she caught his lower lip between hers, running her tongue against it, then sucking on it lightly. She pulled away. What was next, again? Ah, right. She leaned slightly to the side, and delicately nipped at his earlobe. When she did, she felt a tremor run through Yusuke’s entire body as he drew a deep, shuddering breath.

“My god, Futaba,” he breathed as he took a step back and sat down on his desk chair, putting her down in his lap and catching her face with his hands. “Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

“...the internet…” she mumbled as she looked away.

“Teach me,” he replied fiercely, desire burning in his eyes.

* * *

 

Despite the increasing number of Phantom Thieves meetings, Futaba and Yusuke found time to see each other over the next few days. Futaba even came to the Shujin school festival. They tried to enjoy themselves, but it was a bit of a tense day, especially when Akechi dropped by and suspiciously mentioned the “whole gang” being there. Although, Akechi choking on spicy takoyaki went a long ways towards making up for the stress in Futaba’s opinion. That evening, Yusuke walked her home. Akira and Ryuji joined them as far as the cafe; it seemed like nowadays Ryuji slept there as often as he did in his own home, if not more.

When they reached her gate, she invited Yusuke in, but he stopped before the front door.

“I ought to get home early. That was a fairly exhausting day, and there’s more to come tomorrow,” he said.

Futaba pouted, but replied, “You’re right. I’ll see you at the festival tomorrow, then?”

“Yes. Good night,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her and leaning down to kiss her.

The front door suddenly slammed open, the sound causing them to jump apart. At the top of the steps, Sojiro’s face was a maelstrom of anger, his eyes flashing. “I thought you told me nothing was going on,” he said furiously.

Futaba ran up to him, explaining that she hadn’t lied, that it had only been a few days and she hadn’t had a chance to tell him about it yet. Sojiro seemed a bit appeased by her words, but still replied, “Get inside.” With an apologetic look at Yusuke, Futaba slipped through the door.

When Futaba’d gone, Sojiro closed the door behind him and walked down the steps. Yusuke felt terrible. He wouldn’t trade what he had with Futaba for anything, but Boss had taken him in willingly when he’d had nowhere to go, and had always treated him with a kindness and respect he had learned not to expect from adults. When Sojiro sat on the last step and waved him over, he did so, still unsure what to say.

“So, you and Futaba, huh?” Sojiro asked. He sounded a lot calmer now that the moment had passed.

There was no point denying it. “Yes,” he replied. “I care for her very much, and I promise to treat her with the utmost respect, but I will not give her up.”

Sojiro shook his head. “I wouldn’t ask you to. You’re not the worst she could have gone with, by far. It’s just hard to see my little girl growing up, you know? For two years she was locked up in that room, and it’s easy to forget how much she grew up in there. In my mind, she’s still the child she was when her mother died.”

Yusuke looked at the floor, at a loss for a reply.

“You can consider that you have my blessing to date her,” Sojiro continued. “But I’d feel better if you could agree not to spend all your time in her room.”

Yusuke shook his head at that. “No. I cannot.”

Sojiro looked at him, a bit of his anger returning, but Yusuke went on. “Futaba’s doing so much better now with the outside world, but it’s still a place of stress and anxiety for her. She’s much happier, much more comfortable, in her room, at her desk. I respect you very much, Boss, and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. But not even for you will I subject her to undue stress, just to appease the morals of a bygone era.”

Sojiro blinked at his speech. He was quiet for a few minutes, then nodded. “You’re right,” he said as he stood, and he walked back inside, ending the conversation on that note.

* * *

 

Yusuke continued to spend most of his days in Futaba’s room, but the bedroom door was always open when Sojiro came home, Futaba on the computer and Yusuke, alternately, sitting on the bed or painting on the easel he’d finally decided to bring over. Maybe they’d rushed into those positions just moments before, when Futaba’s tracker alerted them that Sojiro was coming home, but after all, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

Things got worse for the Phantom Thieves from there. The world wasn’t the place Futaba had imagined back when she’d been locked up alone in her room; it was much, much worse, full of abominable monsters, but she wasn’t afraid anymore. With Yusuke by her side, she knew she could handle anything it threw at her.

* * *

  
[Yusuke's painting of Futaba](https://thermopylod.tumblr.com/post/175860786618/ooommmggg-d-i-wrote-a-futabayusuke-fic-a-while). Art by [Greenie](https://greenieartblog.tumblr.com/).


End file.
